


Don't Go Into The Woods

by QuickSilverFox3



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Branding, Burning, Cannibalism, Dark, M/M, Murder, Torture, Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1254961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don’t<br/>Flames devoured the small building, creaks and groans from the collapsing structure nearly drowning the terrified screams of the couple trapped inside, but not quite. Horrified onlookers ran towards the building, only to be forced back by an explosion of searing bright sparks that flew into the air like angry wasps. Large dark eyes, ringed by purple, stared into the heart of the blaze, unseeing and yet taking everything in with an intensity that made the villagers surrounded the now orphaned boy cringe away, out of some long dormant survival instinct.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Go Into The Woods

_Don’t  
_ Flames devoured the small building, creaks and groans from the collapsing structure nearly drowning the terrified screams of the couple trapped inside, but not quite. Horrified onlookers ran towards the building, only to be forced back by an explosion of searing bright sparks that flew into the air like angry wasps. Large dark eyes, ringed by purple, stared into the heart of the blaze, unseeing and yet taking everything in with an intensity that made the villagers surrounded the now orphaned boy cringe away, out of some long dormant survival instinct.

_Go_  
Carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, one woman walked forward, tears welling up in her eyes as her mind twisted her reality to protect herself from the truth and crouched down next to the Moriarty child, placing a motherly hand on his shoulder.  
“I’m so sorry love!” she crooned, liquid rolling down her face as she pulled the unresisting body into a tight hug, “I’ll take you in and look after you.”  
Jim didn’t move, didn’t speak a word, only cast his gaze skywards to where the last flickers of the fire joined with the twinkling stars in the sky… and smiled.

_Into_  
Things were disappearing she found, and though she reflexively shied away from accusing the Moriarty child, with his innocent face and head of curls, she couldn’t help but wonder. Her own children just stared at her when she broached this subject with them, faces blanching and turning white before they ran to their friends, drawing comfort from them. Her husband shook his head, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes before he returned to the fields, wariness in the set of his shoulders. So she glanced over at the child in question. Jim glanced up at her, purple bags underneath his eyes never disappearing since that night, and returned to staring intently into the small crackling fire.

_The_  
He didn’t sleep, mind twisting and turning over blackened corpses, limbs still twitching, or the hanging bodies of the rabbits and fowl that were slaughtered for food, blood running thick and dark to nourish the earth. Jim felt their worried glances upon him, but he still remained silent, stealing bone spears from the carcasses to sharpen to dangerous points in place of fangs and claws that his ancestors robbed him of.

_Woods_  
It didn’t take long for the whispering to escalate. The Moriarty child was cursed they said, never saying his name as if that very action would cause him to appear. He was a witch, which was why his parents burned as a punishment from God. He was the one who burned them. He could steal your soul and read your mind with a look. He was the Devil. No-one ever said these to Jim’s face, but he knew them nevertheless. And he grinned happily, bone claws sewn tightly onto leather strips, and fingers torn by rough thread and knives.

_Today_  
Fire followed him like a loyal dog and it wasn’t long until it demanded to be fed. But only on Jim’s terms. He was the master over everything he choose, and fire, like himself, was a weapon in his capable hands. The courier didn’t even realise that he had acquired a passenger and Jim slipped off at the next town, claws covering small hands and teeth bared, dress dragging through the dirt and blood smeared on his face until a lady stopped and crouched down, perfume cloud enveloping them, face and voice as she asked, “Are you okay little girl?”

_Or_  
Her blood was sweet on his tongue, her flesh succulent and tender. He wrapped it carefully in the brown paper stolen, and tied it tightly, placing it in the basket, moving to step out of the alleyway in order to re-join the flow of people. A strong hand wrapped around his slender waist, picking him up and pulling him back, one hand clamping around his back to muffle the scream.  
“Stop wriggling Boss,” the deep voice snarled into his ear as Jim beat back against his assailant, bone claws stabbing into scarred skin, “Ouch! Hey!”

_You’ll  
_ He was pinned against the dirty wall, hands being wrenched out of the others skin and pinned above his head, before a handkerchief was rubbed against his face gently, cleaning off the blood smeared around his mouth. The boy stepped back a few steps, tucking the handkerchief into Jim’s pocket and turned to leave before a slim hand curled around his wrist, bloodied shards pricking his wrist as a different handkerchief dabbed at his wounds, darkening the white cloth.

_Have_  
“I was watching you the night your parents burned. My name’s Sebastian and I’ll be seeing you again soon little witch. Be strong and burn bright so I can see you.”  
With those parting words and the brush of broken lips against a pale cheek, the boy was gone, moving away into the shadows and patched skirt swirling behind him.  
In a daze, Jim joined the crowd and returned home, happiness and fierce possessiveness swirling in his mind, not even minding that a cut of meat was missing. He was scolded when he returned, clothes messy and dirty, fear tempering the excitement of fresh meat, and the whispers churned through the village, leaving Jim to enjoy his catch alone while the family dined on shrubs, roots and weeds.

_A  
_ It had been a rather unusual request, but she willingly relinquished her needle to the younger child who no-one dared to go against. He accepted with silence and a feral grin that sent chills down her spine, sending her scurrying to her surviving children, bodies weak through hunger and yet the meat brought by the Moriarty child remained untouched by everything bar him. When he turned up the next morning with a handmade cloak made out of patches of congealing red, a bloody heart resting over his chest where a heart should beat, it sent her crashing to the floor in a dead faint.

_Bad_  
The villager elders stepped in, gaunt hands trembling on their sticks as they inspected the child, wrists cuffed in front of him with leather, blessed by a priest, and shoulders covered by his bloody cloak.  
“Do you know why we’re here child?” One asked voice weak and faltering as he swayed in place.  
“You must be taken in by the Church, to try and save your soul,” another echoed, leaning forward to inspect him, brow furrowing when he realised Jim was wearing a dress underneath the carefully sewn garment.  
He said nothing, voice long since lost to disuse and went with men, feeling the crackle of a sleeping fire awaken in his mind and began to tear through his veins.

_Surprise  
_ The fire tore through her house in a heartbeat, speed fuelled by a child’s rage and anger for every stolen morsel of food, every purple bruise carefully hidden under threadbare clothing, every crude remark, face twisted in anger. The Moriarty child enacted his revenge out on her and her family, repaying them in blood and fire, sending a blood red signal to the others and to the dark denizens of the forest, that Jim Moriarty was here to stay, bloody King of everything he saw. She closed her eyes and succumbed to the flames, feral grin imprinted on the blacks of her eyes.

_Cause  
_ “Every witch has a familiar,” one said, casting a terrified glance at the Moriarty child who was walking past, basket bumping against his hip and ragged trousers barely brushing his knees, clothes forced on him after many hours of bargaining, bloody shroud wrapped around his shoulders. And if the blood stains were fresh, no-one dared to comment after the footprints of a gigantic hound were found in the burnt out husks of the Moriarty child’s houses. Jim naturally made no comment, only grinned which didn’t slip from his face, as boiling holy water was poured over his head, searing pale skin red.

_If  
_ A rough tongue laved over his back as he lay in the sun dappled clearing, clothes stolen from washing lines and neatly folded next to him. Bloody streaks adorned his back and Sebastian sat back from where he was crouched over the other and ran a gentle finger up the length of Jim’s spine, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade before standing up, and slinking back into the shadows of the forest. Jim remained, taking in the warmth of the sun after so long of darkness broken only by his flames, muted and beaten down.

_You_  
They were trying to break him. The beatings, the silver coins pressed into his skin, the cold earth packed around his limb as he lay bound on the cold stone, the water tossed over his head and forced down his throat, but throughout it all he clung to his cloak, marking it with his own blood and tears, owning it with his entire soul in the pale cold light of the full moon.

_Go  
_ Everything was different. He could see them so clearly now, secrets bouncing out at him as if they were being shouted and he revelled in this new knowledge even as his grip on reality crumbled around him. Jim shrieked at them, wordless and yet understood as they buckled under the strain of their decaying minds. And he laughed, howling his glee to the sky, joined by the long howl of a wolf.

_To  
_ He had been three years old when he had first called the fire to his hands from its hiding place in the depths of rotten and decaying soul. It had whispered to him, enticing him with the almost painful warmth, enveloping him in a comforting embrace as a pair of shining golden eyes watched from a nearby bush.

_The  
_ It was a simple matter of waiting, he decided, swinging his feet underneath the table as the old men milled around the table, looking pleased with themselves as Jim peeked at them from underneath lowered lashes, the picture of a broken spirit. They screamed so prettily as they burned, flames ice cold and painful like the endless onslaught of holy water.

_Woods_  
Jim walked out of the stone husk, grey walls melted and warped as ash billowed behind him as the crowd backed away, pale and terrified as their God stood before them, blood covering his pale form and the ashes of their past leaders covering his legs. He threw back his head and howled to the sky, feeling Sebastian rejoice in the forest, delighting in his master’s joy.

_Today_  
“Every witch has their own familiar,” Sebastian said one day, sheathing and unsheathing his claws in anticipation as he lay, sprawled at Jim’s feet, golden gaze fixed on the trembling villages below them, far below the mountain ledge. The mountain loomed over the village that was nestled at its base, providing sanctuary for them, but also cutting them off from the rest of the world, allowing the sprawling forest to have domain over the terrified ants. Jim raised an eyebrow, foot moving to push into Sebastian’s throat, feeling the man swallow and the thrum of his heartbeat.  
“I choose you.”

_You’ll_  
Sebastian was away hunting in the forest when the knights came, metal burnished bright and glinting with a pompous prince in tow who Jim hated instantly with his cold, judging gaze and cold lodged in his heart. Jim was fire, rage and anger contained in a too small form allowing it to bubble to the surface, exploding on those around him to his sadistic delight and Sebastian’s delighted pleasure. Sherlock Holmes was ice rattling around in a lofty container, privileged and pampered.

_Find_  
The knights had to be dealt with carefully. Jim’s hands were bound with shining silver chains that rattled pleasingly as he bumped along in the back of the cart. It was as easy as breathing to increase the temperature of the air, cooking the soldiers as they marched, sending them crashing to their knees with laboured breaths and withered husks of skulls. Sherlock stared at him and Jim giggled, wiggling his fingers back, dress floating around his knees as he rolled around on the hard wood.

_The  
_ Jim’s breath fogged on the air as the survivors shivered around him, waiting impatiently for the gates to open as some froze in their metallic shells, deaths quiet and miserable. Jim pouted, ears perked up and listening as he heard the steady padding of Sebastian’s feet, his familiar faithful to the bitter freezing end. He met Sherlock’s icy gaze and grinned, enjoying the confusion that spilled across the others face before he stood up on his horse, gaze frantically scanning the surroundings for the death that was waiting for him.

_Devil_  
“Greetings Moriarty. My name is Mycroft Holmes.”  
Jim slowly raised his gaze from where he was inspecting the sole of his foot, ice tendrils decorating the bottom to look at the speaker who remained calm underneath the intense scrutiny. Golden skin ran from the tips of his fingers to his elbows, but was not displayed in the floor to ceiling mirror behind him. A woman next to him started at the laughter that bubbled out of Jim’s throat, claws flickering out of her hands and Jim knew.

_There  
_ He couldn’t breathe, thrashing in his captors strong grip as air bubbled out of his nose, the air that he tried to desperately hang onto. The flames whisked and crackled in his veins, unable to escape from its fragile confines as his head was wrenched above the freezing surface, air whooshing back in scratching his throat. Mycroft’s cold gaze bored into his soul as the woman’s claws pricked his bare skin, cloak pushed down his chest and the King made a gesture, plunging Jim back into an icy hell.

_To_  
Jim’s fire was burning low as he curled himself around the tiny flicker, sparks embedding themselves in his skin, creating furling black marks. Rage flooded through his weakened form and he tried once more to push himself up, only to fall heavily back down, broken whimper of pain falling from his lips that melded with the low growl of rage from the striped animal outside of his door. Jim twisted around and gold met brown as Jim’s flames spluttered and died, casting the pair into darkness.

_Play_  
The blood was warm as it was dropped against his lips, Sebastian body unnaturally warm as the were curled around his Boss, breathing ragged and harsh.  
“Come on Boss,” Sebastian hissed, pressing his lips to Jim’s and transferring the blood from himself to Jim who weakly licked back, fragile smile passing over his face as he breathed out slowly, swallowing another’s life force to regain his own. Sebastian laughed, the noise reverberating through Jim as the bloodied handkerchiefs were wrapped tighter around him and the warmth of a tiger pressed against his back.

_So_  
The liquid was bitter as Sebastian tried to push it down his throat, a combination of herbs and spices that could be used to poison as well as cure. He tossed his head, dull fingernails scratching against whatever skin he could reach, cursing the fragility of his claws and teeth, bone shards long since gone, embedded in Sherlock Holmes’ throat, sending red cascading into Jim’s mouth before the icy cold of water and ice sent him spiralling down into the depths of his mind.  
“Don’t worry Boss. I’ll get you your claws soon enough,” Sebastian whispered, kissing Jim gently and taking advantage of the teeth latched onto his already bleeding lip to force some more medicine down his throat.

_If_  
The moon was abnormally large in the sky as Jim stared mindlessly up at it, clothed in nothing but his cloak and Sebastian carried him through the darkened wood, the others footsteps silent through the dry leaves. Sparks flew from Jim’s fingers, singing the darkened wood of nearby tree, marking it with his sigil. The glow caught Sebastian’s attention and a look of surprise passed over the others face before he placed Jim down, ensuring the smaller had his balance before stepping away, claws pushing against his skin.  
“Where to now Boss?” he asked, voice a throaty purr and Jim grinned. It was time to reclaim his territory, and now no-one could stop him.

_You’re  
_ The dress fit him like a glove, rough stitches revealing that it had been hemmed. Jim snuck a look at Sebastian who only resolutely looked away, faint blush covering his cheeks before Jim shrugged the long white shirt, stained and torn from weeks of travelling and puled the dress on, revelling in the soft brush of fabric. He closed his eyes for a long moment, mentally preparing himself and when his eyes fluttered open, he cast Sebastian a frightened glance and quickly darted away into the forest, hand clamped around the basket, head lowered. Sebastian looked after him in bemusement and slunk after him, blending into the shadows as Jim prowled, hidden in plain sight, looking for the duo’s next meal.

_In_  
It had been a bumper harvest this time, Jim noted, picking his teeth clean of the clinging strips of flesh with a shard of bone as Sebastian wrapped the leftovers tightly and passed the once patterned scraps of fabric to him, needle already threaded. Jim accepted it, face stoic, as his gaze flickered between the glinting metal and the sharpened tips of Sebastian’s claws before plunging the point deep into the calloused pad of his finger. The warmth of Sebastian’s mouth around the bleeding digit, tongue lapping away the beaded drops of blood was worth the scolding, but not quite worth the look of sheer panic on the others face and the whispered promise did sound interesting…

_The_  
People were beginning to notice them as they passed by, no longer hidden in the shadows that once cloaked them so beautifully. However they did not find the child, the child found them. Sebastian froze from where he was waiting, tail that was once swishing from side to side languidly was now held in a weak grip. He huffed out a curious breath, catching Jim’s attention from where he was stripping the corpse of their clothes, admiring the shiny jewellery, before pushing himself up and walking to where the child had hidden themselves away, tucked into a crack in the wall and covered by filth and rubbish. Jim crouched down and stared intently at them, pushing their head back to look into their lidded eyes, seeing something in them that called to the darker side of his nature and beckoned for Sebastian to pick up the scrap of child before he returned to harvesting the body.

_Woods_  
The first time they were ever questioned was by the child. They had no name, but ‘the child.’  
“Why are you wearing dresses?” Sebastian stopped in his run and twisted to look at first the child balanced on his shoulders and then to Jim who had stopped running to stare intently at the child, who stared back, no longer cowering away from the harsh gaze.  
“I want one too,” the child mumbled, rubbing their stinging cheek that still bore that red lines of Jim’s nails, feet swaying free.  
“Then I’ll steal you one,” Sebastian promised, waiting for Jim to pull on the pair of trousers and ducking, causing the dress to hit the child square in the face, eliciting a startled squawk from them.

_Today_  
The child learnt quickly and Sebastian’s heart swelled with pride even as he pushed down the lingering word **pack** that travelled insistently through his mind, only increasing ever since he saw the small child in the shadows of a small hut summoning fire from his hands and creating shapes, since the same child burnt down the hut, ripped in other’s flesh with make shift claws made of bone, drank their blood and held out against Mycroft Holmes where none others than Sebastian had. He had the urge to touch, possess and caress Jim, keep the other close to Sebastian and protect him until the last breath left his body and his blood soaked into the rich dark earth. And now they had a child, dark faced and scowling, but sweet at the same time and they would grow strong under his care and no-one would ever touch them…  
Jim threw the basket at Sebastian, breaking him out of his trance and beckoned for Sebastian to come and hold the struggling victim, face twisted as they tried to escape, the child watching the exit of the alley for anyone to walk past.

_Be_  
Jim watched Sebastian as the were writhed beneath him, breaths coming out in soundless pants as he fought with his natural desire to groan his pleasure to the sky and his compulsion to obey Jim’s silent command. The child was staking out a target, their first scouting mission alone. Jim raked his nails down the protruding arches of Sebastian’s ribs and Sebastian let out a wordless howl, startling some nearby birds into flight, and Jim grinned throughout it all, the power he held more intoxicating than the sweetest of his flames, before he leant down and pressed his lips to Sebastian’s roughly, cutting his lips open on the sharp fangs and ripping the others lip open in return, staining their mouths red.

_Sure  
_ Sebastian’s change was as alluring as it was majestic and even Jim couldn’t help the reflexive shudder that travelled through his spine as Sebastian’s back arched, shuddering violently as muscles twisted and reformed, claws bursting through fragile, breakable skin. The fur followed, turning the scarred skin into a twisting pattern of stripes of orange and black as fangs jutted out of gums, human teeth sinking back into his skull. It happened quickly and yet so slowly and at the end, Jim couldn’t resist running his fingers through the luxuriously soft fur and revelling in the deep, throaty purr that his actions invoked.

_To_  
“So are we a family now?”  
The child was curious, asking many questions that hadn’t even crossed the duo’s minds to question because that was just how things were. Like the clothing and the consumption of human flesh, and the fact that Sebastian liked to be hurt by Jim and only Jim, and why Jim could flick fire from his fingertips. Sebastian nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself before he could hit the floor and biting back the curse as Jim stabbed his claws into his side, raking through the barely healed flesh. The child glanced between the two and rubbed his cheek into Sebastian’s hair in a silent apology as the other held his breath in anticipation. Jim shrugged and nodded, tapping Sebastian’s shoulder for him to continue, which he did, fighting down the burning primal delight in his veins.

_Avert_  
It was just a scrap of paper pinned onto the wall of a half broken down house; Jim would have ignored it except for the flashing text in the weak moonlight. He pulled it down and snapped his fingers, summoning a flame and Sebastian to his side. Staring up at him was a picture of a goose, feathers a pale mimicry of gold and a cursive, almost unreadable scrawl next to it. He tapped it twice and gave Sebastian a determined look.  
“Do you want me to bring the child with me Boss?” Sebastian asked, a look of panic entering his eyes as he realised that Jim would not be going with him. Jim nodded and then walked into the house, lighting the fire with a touch and crouching down to stare into its depths, fingers tracing over the bright heart shaped stain, renewed afresh by a careful and devoted touch.

_Your  
_ The goose would not shut up and if Sebastian wasn’t 100% sure that the punishment he would receive would not be of the good kind, and would probably wind up with the extraction of his claws (a permanent procedure) it would have been dead two days ago. The child seemed to like it, cooing at the vile creature and stroking its feathers as they ran along. It had been perfectly simple to break in and then get away, almost too easy which was why they had not returned to the house in the woods yet that Jim had claimed several months ago. He took a deep breath, tried valiantly to ignore the goose so he could concentrate on the sounds of pursuit behind them and felt his claws lengthen. It was looking like they were getting an early lunch tonight.

_Eyes_  
Jim was different now. His periods of manic action were longer, more frantic as well as his periods of complete stillness and silence where his only movement would be a slight rise of his thin chest and sometimes not even that. So Sebastian would sit by his side, only leaving to twist the final parts of his plan together which Jim could not see. The child became more wild, answering only to them, but as curious as ever, bringing back trinkets to tuck away on a shelf in some unknown order. This remained for several days until Sebastian was almost too weak to move, coaxing blood that was almost congealed down his throat and scraps of flesh pressed from his lips to the others. The were coughed weakly as Jim sat bolt upright, eyes wide and unseeing before he scrambled to Sebastian’s side, hoisting the other onto the bed with him and forcing the remaining food down his throat, the gesture well-meaning but also slightly terrifying. The two curled up and went sleep, being joined shortly by the child who nestled in between them.

_Cause_  
Sebastian had been acting different lately and Jim hated it. He hated being confined to a bed with the remnants of a toxin still plundering through his system, destroying Sebastian more and more with every pained whimper that forced it’s way past his lips and yet the other had stayed through the worst and now when he was able to move, he was nowhere to be seen. As if Jim had summoned him, Sebastian walked back into the room and knelt down at the side, head bowed as if in prayer.  
“The child is gone. A witch took them in and they wished to stay.”  
Jim nodded slowly, sensing Sebastian’s sorrow and shame and kissed the other gently, holding back on his usual restraint of his feelings for once.

_The_  
It was with a gentle touch that Sebastian first attempted to coax Jim out of the small house, and when that failed the were simply picked up the other, slinging him over his shoulder as if he was nothing more than a sack. Jim latched his teeth into the hard muscles of Sebastian’s shoulder, teeth unable to get any purchase so he simply sighed and let himself hang, unwilling to burn Sebastian to the lengths that the fire wished him to do for his insolence. It was only when Sebastian set him down that Jim acted, pressing burning cinders into the man’s wrist as his hands trailed past Jim’s, branding him the swirls and whorls of his fingers.

_Devils_  
Sebastian gently pulled Jim’s dress off, slipping it over the fragile jut of his collarbones and down, the others slim build assisting him in this and soon Jim was before him, as he had been many times before clad in nothing but a devilish smirk and cloak of red. He stooped down to kiss him, nipping at his tongue with teeth that were just beginning to sharpen and then stood.  
“Just wait here Boss. Everything will be fine.”  
Jim raised an eyebrow and Sebastian sighed, a fond smile crossing his face and he knelt down in the dirt at Jim’s feet, waiting until the other flicked his fingers to rise and disappear back into the house to look for something.

_Here_  
The mixture as Sebastian coated his fingers with it, drops sliding off of the digits and hitting the forest floor, the ground cleared by years of storms and ancient rituals of people long dead. Jim’s breath caught in his chest as the other crouched down, hands moving in strange yet familiar patterns as slowly a circle appeared on the ground, paste shining eerily in the light of the full moon. A paste covered hand entered his field of vision and Jim’s breath was taken away, magic purring contentedly in his veins as he stepped into the circle. It was closed with a dull hum and then Jim was floating, head lost in a dull cloud that had been his desire all those months ago and yet know he wished to focus, but at Sebastian’s hand on his shoulder, he let himself drift away.

_To_  
Jim Moriarty, bastard child of the Moriarty’s who burnt to death with unholy fire and then adopted child of the Lamb family who quickly followed their predecessors in the pit of his rage, was not scared of his own death. It had been somewhat of a comfort to him, knowing that at some point he would die and the fire that nourished him, caused him to be the way he was would die with him. He was proud of his achievements, proud of the tiger he had trapped at a tender age, proud of the blood that stained his hands and covered his body. But one thing that did terrify him beyond anything Mycroft Holmes, or the Church Fathers could ever do to him, was that Sebastian would leave him. He had grown accustomed to having the tiger around after all, had marked him with his sigil, his hands, teeth and nails, carved his initials into his willing flesh and yet…  
If Sebastian left him, then Jim would have to kill him as Sebastian belonged to no-one but him for now until the very end of his blood soaked life.

_Stay_  
Sebastian kept one finger on the thrumming erratic pulse of Jim’s heartbeat as the other hand traced the thick paste across the uncovered skin, creating twisting patterns as coiled words fell from his lips, the ritual that everyone in his family had gone through coming back to his mind. How far had he fallen from the lap of grace? Morans were privileged shifters, bound to no-one and lord of their lands. And Sebastian hated it. He grew up amongst the commoners, earning his own money for his food and when he had no work, he killed for his food, travelling further and further down a dark path with every swipe of claws and yet he did not care. Seeing the child  who would eventually become his willing master only put the final nail in the coffin of his own creation and he couldn’t care less.

_And_  
Sebastian couldn’t resist kissing Jim before the paste covered the skin, sealing the bruises he created with fangs next to his skin, and Jim carded one hand through Sebastian’s hair, tugging on the locks whenever a bite was unwanted and Sebastian consented letting Jim guide him, even when he decided to mark Sebastian’s skin again. The were grinned secretly, feeling Jim’s teeth rip through skin with was impenetrable to him before and closed his eyes, a delighted smile spilling over his face as he wrapped his hand around Jim’s, twining them together as the moon hit its highest point in the sky.

_His_  
The bones shattered first, punching through paper thin skin in their quest to grow larger, stronger while the rest of the body tried desperately to catch up, muscles pierced by shards and reforming larger in order to match the new limbs, teeth being replaced by newer sharper ones with nails following suit as fur punched its way through newly reformed skin. It was agonising pain and Sebastian embraced it every time he turned, so he stood up and began his own transformation, howls mingling with Jims and the whispers of those long dead.

_Words  
_ Everything was pain and burning and he could do nothing but scream wordlessly, stretching his hands out to try and search for Sebastian who was so close to him, and yet so far away. He knew the tiger was next to him, could tell that he was trailing his fingers across the bare patch of skin in the hollow of his throat. But he wasn’t close enough and Jim tried weakly to pull him closer but he pulled away, teeth stabbing through his lips as Sebastian bowed his head over Jim, blood dripping into his mouth which was greedily licked up.

_Are_  
Jim blinked, the world around him coming into a confusing blur of colour and lights that were not there before. He sensed the frantic heartbeat of a rabbit in the undergrowth surrounding the small clearing, smelt the sharp tang of the fresh blood Sebastian had cast onto the ground, twisting symbols still gleaming around him, their meaning present in his mind but he could not remember them. A long rough tongue carded over the top of his head as Sebastian rubbed his cheek to Jim’s moving slower and with more hesitation than usual. Jim blinked sleepily and pushed himself up, feeling the earth under his paws before a violent shudder ran through his body as he realised what had happened. Sebastian lay down in front of him, the tigers face concerned as the newly created blank panther pushed himself up onto his feet and padding over to the tiger, pressing his face to his and licking him sweetly before darting off into the woods, a little unsteadily. He had been given his claws and now, with his tiger at his side, nothing would stand in his way.

_Lies_  
The child was lost, tears streaming from their eyes as they staggered blindly through the forest, sobs punching out of their chest. One hand was clutched to their chest, the red inflamed skin clearly visible even as they pressed their free hand to it, in an attempt to smother the pain. The brush of a cold wind made them shiver as it tore through their patched clothes.  
“What is the matter cub?”  
“They burned me!” The little child hiccupped, too young to be startled at the strange voice as they turned to the tall man crouched down at the base of a tree, “They said I’m a witch!”  
“It’s okay cub,” Sebastian purred, picking up the child, “Moriarty will protect you now.”  
Back in the small cottage Jim smiled contentedly as he turned the meat on the spindle, children running in and out of the house, protected by his fire and rage as another child was brought into their criminal enterprise and no-one was left to stop them.


End file.
